Resident Evil: The Good Days
by Words Like Shurikens
Summary: Description inside. Rated T for language.


**A/N**

**Hello, people. This would be my first fanfiction ever. I have a dysfunctional mind that needs escapes, and I heard that writing up stories lets you get away from yourself. I am new to fan fiction and am amazed to discover there is such a huge world dedicated to the game of my childhood, Resident Evil. So, while I stick around, I hope you guys can bear with whatever I come up with. **

**Onwards, to the story. The story itself will be slightly Alternate Universe: it is canon up to the end of Resident Evil 4, and from there, the plot unfolds as I will present it to you. Also, I cannot guarantee how in- character the characters will be, I'm trying my best. This story is centered around Leon after Spain, will have many Original Characters, haven't decided on anything about pairings yet. To set things clear, this story will involve Ashley, despite the hate this character gets. I actually thought, being a guy, that she held her own exceptionally well in RE4: she's a scared teenager after all (well, almost; she's 20 right?).**

**Alright, I won't leave you hanging much longer. Constructive reviews and criticism will be much appreciated. I cannot guarantee how often I will update. So if you are actually reading this fic AND WANT MOAR, leave a review so I know I'm leaving someone hanging and will be arsed to write up the next chapter. Aight, PEACE, I'll leave replies to any reviews in the next A/N, see you there.**

**Also, whatever is in Italics can be considered flashbacks. And I would suggest a theme song of sorts for this opening chapter, it fits well: Celldweller – So Long Sentiment.**

Chapter 1: Monday mornings.

A dull buzz of a phone alarm going off sounded from somewhere in between the folds of his convertible sofa. Muttering, Leon shuffled under the covers to get the bugger. Throwing the covers aside, he lay scoffing at the ceiling of his one- room apartment engrossed in darkness from the closed blinds. The place of his dwelling off- duty for the past decade was barely equipped with all the necessities: a sofa slash bed, a decent- sized TV, a mismatching closet, a table against the wall upon which was an expensive Apple desktop, one of the few investments he had made. A noisy fridge and a stained stove next to it. And a toilet. He was in a moral dilemma: Graham, the president of The United States, from whom he was now receiving orders directly, mentioned that Leon was being made 'redundant' for at least six months after his 'ventures' in Spain. The president would not listen to any of Leon's protests.

The dilemma came in the form of not quite knowing WHAT to do during his time off. Leon never paid much attention to his welfare, mainly because he was often gone from Washington D.C. on streaks of three to four months straight, recurring, with a single week's break in- between, through which he either slept or visited his mother. And off he was again. He was CONDITIONED into a relentless federal agent, and now the old man goes and pulls this shit on him? Oh no, don't get him wrong, Leon respected Graham. He perfectly understood that this disproportional half- a- year break in his career was actually purely from Graham's empathy towards the 26 year old agent who hadn't even had the chance to live a life yet.

_That's when the thoughts came. Since he was forced into having a break, it was about time he lived for himself a bit. Last week, Leon passed by the billing department to check out his credit balance. The secretary's eyes goggled for a few seconds after she searched him up in the database, after which she cited in the straightest voice she could pull off: 'Your balance is two million, six hundred thirty nine thousand USD as of yesterday. Since this is the first time you contact the billing department, would you like me to unlock your account?' Leon nodded. He wasn't exactly shaken by the figure, although he did expect it to be a digit smaller._

Groaning, Leon peeled himself off the sofa. Spain did not leave a deep psychological impact on him, at least not as deep as the physical one. The first week back, he was laying on his sofa, bandaged toe to head, several ribs healing, in a drug- induced narcosis for four days straight due to his nervous system going haywire. Well, no shit, he took blows from a rake, a flying hatchet, A FUCKING FLAIL TO THE SIDE OF THE HEAD, and the list only expands. Electrocuted by a stun rod, brow scarred by a spiked shield, elbow cut open when he wrestled for his life against a chainsaw. His run-in with Krauser left a bullet implanted in his thigh and yet another facial scar. He also happened to fulfill the role of a test hamster on an experimental internal laser surgery apparatus, with the remnants of the Plaga parasite coughed up in bloody chunks. Despite Leon's urge to be done with the paperwork his first day back, he had to call it a day- upon landing in the USA, he hadn't slept for 48 hours straight.

Lies, there was one psychological attachment- Ashley. It felt weird not feeling her breath nor her touch on his back as he had every moment in that hectic couple of days in Saddler's domain. Moreover, he was worried about how she was getting over the experience. Very much like him, her outlook on life was now stained with the prospect of bio- terrorism, something he still hasn't gotten over. Also, his rejection of her 'friendship' on their ride back… He felt it was silly of her to be so spontaneous, and the idea was just absurd, he could not possibly keep the experience enjoyable with his line of work. Ashley was, for one, his employer's daughter; two, he could not say FOR FACT that he didn't feel anything for her after what they've been through together, but it was more complicated to him than just giving in to the moment's desire; three, she was six years younger than him and deserved better. There were other people in his life that he still had to formulate an opinion about.

He is an emotional retard. A degenerate. He can't help but feel otherwise about himself. The few buddies he has keep telling him to go easy on himself. Sometimes, Leon agrees. He is way too self- conscious and reserved. Always plays the tough, cold guy when the situation calls for it in his opinion. It's his third week back home, and he can already tell how his five years of blood and sweat for the government had impacted him. He is constantly alert. Never takes anything for face value. Doubts things said. Dislikes noisy social occasions. About time he felt like he needs to get his shit together. Maybe move out of this shithole, for a starter.

Well, before he can do that, he has to get his ass to the office to collect some paperwork to be done over his period of 'redundancy'. Truth be told, he feels better about doing at least something with his time, despite his hate for paperwork.

_Graham suggested him a cruise to the Bahamas. Despite his best efforts, Leon laughed. It was a sad laugh, streaked with irony, self- loathing and even a bit of spite. Graham was a smart man. He laughed with him and patted him on the shoulder. 'Not happening, is it?'_

'_No, sir, can't imagine myself wearing flip- flops and shorts.'_

_The president chuckled, spinning around in his office chair. 'If you don't have anything big planned, may I ask a bit of a personal favor, Leon?' There was a short silence. Somehow, Leon knew where this was going. Psychic powers._

'_Absolutely, sir.'_

_Graham cast his gaze away from Leon. 'Pay a visit to Ashley. Find a free hour or two. She seems to be getting on just fine, but I know she needs you more than anyone right now.'_

_Leon pulled on a reassuring smile. 'Alright.' The president looked up._

'_Take her to the Autumn Fest. Whatever you deem appropriate.' He twirled the pen he was holding around in his hands and smiled. 'Whatever youngsters enjoy doing.'_

_Leon nodded and turned to leave the room. 'Oh, one more thing,' said the president._

'_Yes, sir?'_

'_No more sirs. Call me Ben.'_

_They shook hands. 'I value your friendship, Leon.'_

After a quick, cold shower, Leon looks himself over in the bathroom mirror. The scruff has to go. He needs a haircut. The latter can wait. He gets to shaving. The old blade is a bitch. Cuts him. Washes his face. Walks out the bathroom. Takes coffee off the stove. Sips it. Forgot sugar. Opens cupboard. Empty. Fuck.

Puts a pair of blue jeans on. A black T- shirt. Black sneakers. Must be freezing outside. 'Where's my- … ' That's right. The assholes stole his 300 dollar jacket back in Spain. Tsch. A hoodie will do. Keys. Lock the door. Elevator out of commission. Balls.

Gets inside his government issued, black Volvo sedan. Some dork is blocking the parking lot entrance. Hoot him once. Hoot him twice. A nicely dressed lady runs past his car. Too nicely dressed. Must be a hooker. Or a feminist society lobbyist. Gets in the driver's seat, waves apologies. Leon nods. Just move already. Streets jammed with morning traffic. 20 minutes to the White House, 2 kilometers away from his apartment… Walking next time. Monday mornings are a bitch.

Parks. Walks past the men in black suits, flashes badge.

'Leon!' Familiar voice.

Turns around. 'Nick. What's new?' Fakes a friendly smile. Not that he doesn't like Nick, in fact they're good colleagues. It's just that Leon knows he is busted.

'Don't play the fool on me, Leon. You know Graham said to keep you off the office grounds for the next half a year or so, you old dog. Get a life dude.'

Leon smiles. '… Aight, I'm here to get my paperwork, though.'

Nick raises an eyebrow.

'…And leave immediately after, Nick.'

'That's right.' He gestures 'I'm watching you'.

Walks through the same, old, familiar marble halls. Everything is mundane, he walks into the office wing, to his desk, grabs several hefty folders. Several friendly faces. Waves. Even hoots. He's been the big thing for the past two or so weeks, when the details of the operation were out on the table.

The parking lot, in 20 minutes, after several 'hellos', small talk and 'goodbyes'. Gardeners mowing the lawns. Very noisy. Nice smell, though. The sky is darkening, rainy day again. Wants to chill for the rest of the day. Not sure who to call.

'Leon?' Once again, his name is called out.

He turns around. And his day changes for the better. A familiar redhead he hadn't seen in 2 years. 'Claire?'

**Well, that's it for now. Waiting for a single review to keep writing. Thanks for the read.**


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